


in the new midwinter

by jessequicksters



Series: dim sum drabbles [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Poetry, Resurrection, me to arthur: wake up bitch!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24133099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessequicksters/pseuds/jessequicksters
Summary: (for the prompt: merlin, christmas)'Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain’- In the bleak midwinter, Christina RossettiArthur’s been asleep for a long time.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: dim sum drabbles [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732507
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: dim sum drabbles





	in the new midwinter

**Author's Note:**

> we're revisiting xmas of 2012 and rewriting the damn thing

_‘Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain’_

_\- In the bleak midwinter, Christina Rossetti_

Arthur’s been asleep for a long time.

The world has changed: mountains climbing on top of each other, sinking into the earth, now carrying the weight of billions of people on its rounded back, still spinning.

He’s still spinning when someone pulls him out of the lake. Naked and bare, the cold air is crisp on his skin, flecks of snow kissing his back, chest, eyes fluttering open slowly.

Faces. He’s forgotten what people looked like; the memories still buried deep somewhere in between death and the loss of what was meant to be the promise of eternity.

The rude awakening of time reminds him that this moment, this resurrection, is final. It feels like a white snake wrapped around his leg, fangs sunken deep into his bones, constricting his chest with every new breath, infantile and raw.

 _It’s okay_ , the voice tells him. _You’re okay_ , they say again.

The voice is familiar. Arthur feels warm hands on his cheeks, hot tears streaming down his face as their foreheads and noses touch. A lot about this feels new, like a change in the seasons after a brutal set of winters.

The snowflakes are soft on the tips of his fingers. The air is filled with the scent of ivy and holly, bright and warm.

Arthur is suddenly confronted with the memory of the old country, struck by a sudden fear that it all might be lost. To look out through the windows of the world again, and to confront it for all of its monsters and magic, is no small task.

A pair of familiar gold eyes descends into view.

His name sounds like a prayer on someone else’s tongue, like an enchantment that’s taken centuries to come to life.

Arthur then remembers.

**Author's Note:**

> written as part of a quarantine fic challenge with [illea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/illea)


End file.
